


Never Seen Anything Quite Like You

by thegrounders



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Art, M/M, Music, Painting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:07:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrounders/pseuds/thegrounders
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Dan and Phil fics written to start off the new year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Paint the Town Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: "Because Dan is afraid of the dark, Phil painted little pictures on his bedroom wall in glow in the dark paint - the wall is covered (and so is the ceiling)"
> 
> // the time when phil paints on dan's walls.

He had never been a morning person—the way in which Dan would react in hearing the slightest noise was proof of that. Though, he’dgradually get worse when the sun is ripped from the sky with a violent force; leaving only black in its wake.

The dark was his worst nightmare.

He was the kid who feared monsters lurking under his bed and hiding in his wardrobe. He would make sure that a torch was sat at his bedside table at all times (because yes, a light would somehow kill a monster six feet tall and mountains wide because it has special qualities or _something_ ) and his door would always be left open just a crack, in case of emergencies.

But he was not a little kid anymore. He was twenty-four. Not that there was anything wrong with being afraid of the dark, but he didn’t believe in ghosts or monsters, so what was the problem?

He found that his answer lied in the unexpected. He was afraid of the unknown; in the dark you never see what’s coming until it’s right at your face and you’re screaming and terrified, but it’s too late. There was just something eerie about the whole experience of night. The world plummeted into darkness every night, leaving room for everything evil and hungry to make its move on the innocent and afraid.

The coffee shop that Dan liked to do most of his University work in was packed with people that evening, so he decided to come home a little earlier than usual.

He met up with PJ, Carrie, Pete and Dodie every week so that they could go through their homework together. Plus, he usually gets stuck a lot, and Carrie is always on hand to point him in the right direction—right before PJ just straight out gives him the answer; asking twenty times which note should be where gets kind of annoying, apparently.

“You smell like coffee,” Phil announced just as Dan was hanging up his black winter coat in the hallway.

“How the hell can you smell that? And you tell me the same thing every week, it’s nothing unusual.”

“I just got given a new power that allows me to smell things one hundred times better.”

“Phil seriously,” Dan was saying as he made his way through to stand in the living room doorway. “I’m all for aliens, but why would they give _you_ special smelling abilities?”

Phil’s mouth fell open at the sound of Dan’s unfathomable words as if the answer was the most obvious thing ever. He seemed genuinely offended.

“I’m the source for human contact,” he shot back enthusiastically. “They come directly to me when they want to make contact with the Earth. It’s a pretty neat job.”

“You’ve got this whole story planned out, huh?” Dan replied in a slightly amused tone.

“Yup,” he confessed. “Do you want to grab another controller?”

Phil was currently sat on the couch with a gaming control in one hand, a hot chocolate in the other, while wearing his Cooke Monster Pyjamas. He looked so comfy, laying back with two fluffy pillows and a blanket wrapped around his legs. He was playing Portal on the Xbox, which was one of Dan’s all time favourite games. The offer was so tempting, a laid back night playing video games sounded reasonably good to him.

“I so wish I could, but I’ve got uni work to do. Maybe one game?” he suggested.

“No!” Phil shouted back. “Do your homework, and when you finish you can come and play video games. If you procrastinate you won’t get anything done.”

“Yes Mum. Why are you always right?” Dan sighed as he turned on his heels and made his way toward his bedroom.

“Because I have alien intelligence!” Phil had bellowed back, which made it harder for Dan to hold back his laughter any longer.

When he entered his room, he shut his door—remembering to leave it open slightly—dumped his bag by his bedside table, and flopped face first down onto his bed. He let out a sigh, rolling over on his side to stare at the bareness of his wall.

His room was pretty boring. It consisted of four white walls and a few pieces of Wirrow art to add some bursts of colour. He loved the artwork displayed across the walls, but he just wished that there were more of it.

Dan had met Phil back in his first year of university. As always, Dan was walking through campus with music blaring in his ears taking no care for the outside world, meaning that he didn’t notice the guy sitting in front of the water fountain with a huge ass canvas. He walked right into it, falling over the painting and splashing paint everywhere.

If it was anyone but Phil, they probably would have flat out punched him.

Dan had fumbled out an apology, but the other guy had just laughed. He was definitely an art student; he had black hair with streaks of blue and pink and purple all along his fringe that looked like misplaced paint at a first glance. His rolled up red and black plaid shirt was covered in different colours, but the same went for his black worn out jeans. Since then, Phil had adopted a more casual looking, sticking with the plaid but throwing out the bottles upon bottles of hair-dye.

He insisted that he would buy a full set of new paints for him because his painting (now completely unrecognisable) was utterly and truly wrecked. Somehow, that moment helped them to develop a friendship, and a good one at that.

Phil was studying art at the time and was currently in his third year. He finished with a “Bachelor of the Arts” but he never liked to brag about it, so Dan often did the bragging for him. Dan was now in his third year of studying music and he loved it more than anything—its just loads of hard work, and he found himself procrastinating way too much.

For the next couple of hours he sat writing out his report on his chosen musicians and practising his chosen piece on the wooden piano in his room. He got so lost in the music that he didn’t realise the time until Phil came to notify him, telling him “It’s eleven, you probably want to get some sleep.”

So he laid back in bed, wearing a grey t-shirt and some black bottoms, before he reached over to his table to turn the light off. That’s when he saw it.

Right in front of him on the wall opposite was a big glow-in-the-dark painting. It was of a book displaying music sheets, with an array of different sized musical notes shooting out of the pages like stars in the night sky. There were also some swirls and stars dotted around amongst the notes, and it must have taken hours because it all looked _so perfect._ The shapes had all been drawn intricately with care for every little detail and flick. He couldn’t believe this was drawn for him, a kind of warm fuzzy feeling started to spread across his chest and his eyes began to get all misty. If he wasn’t so tired he would have ran into the next room and gave Phil a hug, so he went with a heartfelt text instead.

* * *

The following week inside the coffee shop wasn’t as crammed as last time. Dan spotted the rest of the group sitting by one of the window tables so he grabbed his order, a caramel macchiato, and made his way over to sit in one of the empty leather seats.

“Glad you finally decided to show up,” PJ joked as he gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Sorry, I can’t help that I’m famous. I just gave four girls outside my autograph. They were saying how I’m the love of their life,” Dan replied matter-o-factly.

“You wish,” Pete scoffed. “Everyone knows that _I’m_ the hottest at this table.”

“Oh shut up!” Carrie grumbled, punching him on the shoulder before giving him the biggest eye roll ever. “How are you Dan?” she asked now turning to face him. “Any more glowing artwork to share with us?”

“Sadly not, but the whole thing is still glowing. It lights up my whole bedroom, it’s awesome.”

“You should tell Phil to come over my house! I want a big painting of a huge giraffe on my bedroom wall. He could so make a living out of drawing glow in the dark stuff,” Dodie added with a huge smile spread across her face. Giraffes were her favourite kind of animal. They were on her pencil case, rulers, rubbers and even the clip holding the hair away for her face. She seemed to get really excited about them.

“I’ll give him the heads up,” Dan agreed with a laugh. “So, who’s got the answers for me?”

As the night went on the coffee shop got a lot quieter. Not only did Dan like coming here to hang out with his friends, but it also had a peaceful and calm vibe that would make anyone want to stay there. The place was like his second home. Even when he didn’t have to meet up with anyone, his favourite time to visit was in the rain. The big glass window was perfect for watching the tiny little droplets run down and play a game of chase with each other. It was relaxing for him, especially after a stressful day at uni.

Everyone had their homework completed and it was hilarious watching Carrie and Pete get into another fight over the best Disney character (“Prince Eric is the best character obviously.” “No Pete, you just like him because he’s hot!” “So? Isn’t that a valid reason?”), but Dan had to pack up and head home as he was exhausted, and he was secretly hoping to find another piece painted across his wall in the magical paint sent down from the heavens.

He ran all the way home, which was the worst idea of his life because he was the most unfit person on the entire planet, and bolted straight up to his bedroom without even uttering a single word to Phil.

He turned out the lights, but there was nothing new on the walls. He sighed, disappointment seeping out from between his lips. Life sucked sometimes.

After changing out of his clothes in the bathroom, he came back into bed and lay down on his back while staring up at the ceiling. He reached over and turned off the light like usual, and before his very eyes unfolded a night sky like no other. There were planets (he counted, all eight of them) and stars and rockets and asteroids and anything else you would find in space. It was his secret little Galaxy, lighting up the whole room in a luminescent yellowy green.

He felt a lump in his throat while also having to fight hard to keep a huge smile from spreading across his face.

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and just a few moments before he was in a stroppy mood because Phil hadn’t painted anything for him.

Phil wasn’t obliged to paint anything; he knew how terrified Dan was of the dark and it was so touching that he had spent time out of his day to paint this especially for him (okay, he mostly plays video games and paints but they’re both very important to him). It meant the world, and all the planets, and the entire solar system.

* * *

For once he was early, walking inside and finding the whole shop quiet. He walked up the counter and ordered the usual before taking his pick at one of the many empty tables. Dan decided to go with the one right at the window even though they sat their last time.

He sat next to the window so that he could have a nosy outside before everyone else showed up. Luckily, he had brought his laptop and was able to start on writing some more of his easy due for tomorrow. Their teacher often assigned them work that would have to be done in the smallest time frame possible, and it was a huge pain. Dan often found himself drowning is essays and assignments for this very reason.

“Hey Dan!” Carrie called from across the room. “We’ll be right over!”

Carrie had walked in with Pete, who threw him a wave before joining her in the queue. Carrie was wearing a long grey fur coat, with a lemon coloured flowing dress that came down to her knees. Pete on the other hand, wore a black leather jacket with his black skinny jeans. All he ever wore was black. Maybe it was his favourite colour; Dan had never asked.

“It’s absolutely freezing out there,” Carrie stated as she sat her things down on the table.

“We know, you were complaining about it the whole way here,” Pete shot back, making a loud bang as he threw his bag onto the table.

“Shut up, and I wasn’t complaining. I was just stating the obvious.”

“You guys seriously need to get a room. I feel like a third wheel here,” Dan added with a smirk glued to his face.

Carrie just rolled her eyes while Pete and Dan both took part in a high five. Dan loved winding her up about Pete, it was so obvious that she liked him.

“So,” she said aloud, trying to change the conversation. “Are the new stars in your bedroom still hanging in there?”

“Yeah! It’s way better than the real night sky. Plus there’s rockets and planets, which you can’t see from here,” Dan noted.

“Actually, you can sometimes see Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn if you know where to look,” PJ explained.

Dan hadn’t even noticed PJ entering the shop. He was already stood with a coffee cup in hand, wearing his multi-coloured scarf and a Christmas jumper (even though it was only the middle of Autumn). Dodie was stood ordering her drink and joined them moments later in a short black skirt and orange knitted jumper. A different animal was holding her hair back today.

“Oh yeah, we forgot all about Mr. Space over here!” Pete said sarcastically.

“I just like space, alright? Aliens are so much cooler than all of you humans,” PJ responded.

“Enough about Aliens, that’s all I’ve heard from Phil all week.” Dan butted it.

It was true, though. All week Phil had went on about the day that aliens will take over the world and how it will benefit our society. Dan was starting to think that the paint fumes were getting to his head.

“Aliens?!” Dodie whispered. “I don’t like Aliens. They freak me out. I prefer dogs instead. Can we talk about dogs?”

And so the conversation changed and absolutely no work got done at all. They each had been busy that week working on new exam pieces. This was their first proper time to catch up and chat, and he was having so much fun.

In the end he managed to just finish up his essay before they each were thrown out so the shop could close. They all said goodbye, Carrie gave him a big bear hug while Dodie gave him a tight squeeze, and then he was on his way back to the apartment.

The streetlights were flickering probably because a lot of them needed new bulbs and he kind of wished he had one of PJ’s ridiculous scarfs because it was in fact freezing. His coat was keeping most of the wind from hitting his body but that didn’t stop the chill from swirling around him. He felt his hands slowly begin to turn to ice and he was sure that they would fall off at any minute. Both of his feet went numb also, making it even harder to walk in a straight line. People would think that he’d just come back from the pub.

By the time he got home his whole body had turned to a block of ice. Phil came running fast down the hall as he continued to jump like an excited little kid.

“Come on!” he was saying gragging a hold of Dan’s arm. “I’ve got something to show you!!”

Dan just laughed and went along with it, letting him pull him hurriedly down the hall and into his bedroom. They both stood there for a moment before Phil turned off the lights to revel his new work.

“I’ve been working on this all day, what do you think?” Phil asked, a little nervous and apprehensive.

There was no spot left untouched. Phil had literally went and painted the town green; all of his favourite things were now magically drawn upon his wall. Dan’s favourite Pokemon character had made it onto the wall along with different video game characters that he loved. There was a drawing of different animals which made him laugh, and just lots more stars and funny random shapes. His whole room had come to life, and it was all for him.

“Phil, I can’t believe this,” he tried, but for once he was speechless. “I love this.”

“If it makes being in the dark that little bit easier, then it was totally worth it,” Phil replied gently.

From then onwards, Phil would draw new paintings on his walls whenever the old ones started to become less visible.

It was true that Dan adored them; but he was no longer scared of the dark. He learned that beauty, too, lies within the unexpected.


	2. Mixing it Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: "Phil chooses Dan’s next hair colour by mixing up a colour on his paint palette."
> 
> // the time when phil picks dan's hair colour.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Dan asked hesitantly.

"It's me we're talking about here. When is anything I do a good idea?" Phil replied in a somewhat serious tone.

It was probably a true fact to say that Dan had pretty much the coolest hair for miles. He wasn't afraid of experimenting, but he was a little afraid of Phil.

Right now his hair was coloured silver with purple streaks at the ends. It had previously been dyed by a professional but the price to get it done was extortionate. The darkness of his natural hair colour was starting to show from the top of his head, so he was in desperate need of a fix-up.

Phil was an artist, not a hairdresser, and Dan deemed those things as being very separate entities. He had never touched anyone's hair in his whole life, except to die his own hair black. Plus, that wasn't Dan's hair, so he could do whatever he wanted with it. Phil was currently sat at the end of his bed with all of the art supplies he owned sprawled out upon it. He was currently working on some big project, which he seemed to be taking very seriously. Dan's hair colour, not so much.

"If you ruin my hair I will kill you," Dan warned.

"Don't worry, it's going to look cool," Phil assured him.

He stood over the messy bed as he watched Phil grab a palette and squirt all different paint colours onto the board. He grabbed a brush, and started mixing colours right, left and centre. He kept going back between colours and adding a little more of this and a bit of that. Dan wasn't expecting so much dedication to achieve the _perfect_ colour. Dan was sure alright, he was definitely an artist.

"How about this?" Phil questioned, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

The colour he had mixed was a type of blue, but with a hint more green. It was like something you would find at the bottom of the ocean; maybe on a oracle different fish would stop to stare at. Dan took the palette and walked all the way over to Phil's mirror to have a look. He held it up; comparing the colour to his current look while also being hyper aware to not spilling any onto the carpet.

"Okay, I have to agree. This does look quite awesome. Do you think it would suit me?" Dan wondered, still staring at himself in the mirror.

He has been purple, pink, red, blonde, black and now silver, but never blue.

"Yeah, of course!! There's only one way to find out," Phil encouraged.

In the next days that followed, Dan went out and searched high and low until he came across a blue hair-dye that was almost exactly the same shade as the one Phil had mixed up. He decided to got for it; taking on the new look with attitude. He received so many compliments and he couldn't believe the response he was receiving from everyone.

From then onwards, Phil always chose Dan's next hair colour by mixing and experimenting with his paints, to which he always died his hair.


	3. Motherfudger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: “You just took the last muffin at *insert cafe* and I am ready to fight you.”
> 
> // the time when dan and phil both want the same muffin.

Thursday mornings were the worst. Dan's music lecture was at ten, meaning that he had to get up early to make it on time. It also meant that he became dependent on sugar; and so he religiously made a trip to the local cafe on campus every single week. This didn't mean that he never visited on any other day. He went there, _all the time._

The big steaming coffee cup of "Bookworm Corner" was lit up in its usual bright neon red. It almost blinded him it was that bright. Why the hell was the sign turned on at this time in the morning? It was too early for this shit.

He entered to the ring of an overhead door bell to find lots of students lazily hanging over their cups. The ones who were planning to spend most of their day there held the cafe's signature mugs—a white ceramic with a bright red book on the front, which showed that a huge chunk had been taken out of it. A green worm protruded out from the pages wearing round, brown glasses, with "Book Worm" written across the blank space in green. They also had plain black ones with "Cup of Kindness" written across it. He preferred the worm, but a student on campus know as Carrie Hope Fletcher had designed it in one of their competitions, so it wasn't that bad.

Most of the tables were full as chatter and laughter filled the air. The atmosphere inside was always so homely, better than any class or common room. The decor was pretty modern, the walls looked like real bricks though it was just smooth wallpaper. The tables themselves were different coloured puzzle pieces, which could be joined together to make two or three bigger tables if a group wanted to study together. Lights hung from the celling which basked everything in a soft, incandescent light. The counter was filled with long, shining glass cases, always holding the most delicious goods.

A jukebox sat off to the corner, but sadly it was just for show. It looked incredible in the way it'd been restored and it went really well with the rest of the place. They played music through the college radio called SFOS (or known by the students as Society for Orgasmic Sound).

Dan occasionally listened to the radio himself, as they actually played some decent alternative music. They took requests on a Friday night, and it's actually frightening how many drunken students phoned in to request High School Music songs. He found it hilarious.

His scarf had to be removed as it was actually getting quite warm inside, it dawned on him that he would have to go back out in the freezing cold again and the thought itself made him shiver. He only had fifteen minutes left to get to class so he hastily joined the queue. His usual order is a hot caramel cappuccino, with extra caramel. So, enough sugar.

He quickly scanned along all of the cases and everything looked _so_  scrumptious. There were scones with delicious cream and jam, créme brûlée's, sweet lemon curd trifle, danishes and various breads with soft insides and crunchy outsides. But his eyes lingered upon the muffin trays, where they would usually have chocolate, plain and blueberry, though it appeared they had ran out—

Until he spotted this one, perfect, blueberry muffin. 

Dan looked down the queue ahead of him, there were only four people still waiting in line before him, surely none of them would be want a muffin.

The first person to get served looked around forty, making friendly conversation with the barista. They ordered a large coffee to go and was quick to leave the shop once they were served. The next up was a girl who spoke softly and looked at the menu briefly before ordering. She commented on the drawings displayed on the blackboard—the schools mascot, a lopsided squirrel and a random squiggly thing—and laughed, before she was handed her strawberry and cream frappuchino. The third person was well wrapped up and it was hard to hear what they were saying, but all the same they managed to order a classic hot chocolate with whipped cream.

They all had left, and then there was one. He wore a black coat to go with his hair as it shimmered brightly under the lights above. There was a purple galaxy backpack slung over his shoulder as he held a batman purse tightly in his hands, as though someone was ready to stead if off him.

"Hello! How can I help you?" the barista asked politely.

"Can I have a hot caramel cappuccino please?" he requested.

"Coming right up!" they returned brightly.

Funny, he had ordered the same thing Dan _always_  orders, only—

"With extra caramel!" he added.

Of course, he's not the only person on the planet who is allowed to have that drink, it was just a really weird coincidence.

Dan was that close to the counter all he could smell now was coffee. It was strong when you first walked in the door, but now it was prominent, the scent lingering around his nose.

The drink was made within a matter of seconds and placed on the counter top, she added a straw, also. "Would you like anything else?"

"Hmm..." he stopped, staring along the cases of sweet goodies, contemplating the choices. He could have anything, anything at all... "I'll have the blueberry muffin please."

"Fuck," Dan swore under his breath, but not quietly enough as the other guy turned around to face him.

His face was pale, but his eyes were a piercing blue that told you he meant business. What on earth was he thinking? _It's only a muffin_ , he thought, _there's plenty of other options._ But, he really, really wanted that damn muffin.

"That will be four pounds and sixty five pence."

He handed over his money and moved swiftly to the side. Dan could feel beads of sweet dripping down the back of his neck.

"Excuse me?" the girl was saying, staring at the blank expression oh his face. "Would you like anything?"

"Uh, yeah. Can I have the same please?" he mumbled.

"Sure, but we're all out of muffins. Is there anything else you'd like?"

Great, it was just his luck. He didn't need to be reminded.

"No thanks," he replied dryly.

While standing waiting for his drink to be made, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that the guy was still standing at the edge of the counter. Was he waiting for him? He must be. Well, he was going to give him a piece of his mind.

He handed over the amount of money due and thanked the barista, before picking up his plastic cup and turning off to the right.

The other guy put up his hand in an attempt to stop him. "Hey—"

Dan cut him off. "I'm having a really shitty day, okay? First of all I'm late, and I had to run all the way here because I missed the bus. I then stepped in a puddle and got my jeans all wet," he paused and gestured to the massive wet patch on both legs. "People started laughing at me and I haven't even seen any of my friends yet. I just wanted a nice hot drink and a blueberry muffin and you took the last one." He looked up at the guys face and he seemed to just be staring at him. "Do you want to fight?"

"Fight?" he repeated, startled.

"Yeah, do you want to fight? We can go outside and do this."

"I don't want to fight, what's wrong with you? I was just going to ask if you wanted my muffin but you can forget it," he shot back in a hurt expression on his face.

The guy walked off, clearing taking none of Dan's shit. He was going to give him the muffin? He probably just said that to make Dan feel guilty, and it was working.

He left the cafe feeling very uneasy as he jogged off to class. This certainly wasn't his day.

* * *

The following week was just as hectic as the last. He got up, dressed, and ran for the bus—which he managed to get on time. It was really lucky on his part because he hated having to do any form of exercise. There was a reason why he was studying music, it didn't involve unnecessary exercise.

He arrived on campus with plenty of time to spare. People he knew waved at him as he passed them by, but he couldn't help laughing at the photography students chasing after this single butterfly with their cameras. They would do anything to capture the perfect moment.

As he walked around the gushing fountain it was obvious that people had tests or something. They each were huddled around one other with their calculators in hand as they (quite forcefully) shouted equations at each other. Dan said a silent prayer for them.

The art students were outside too, painting whatever they could draw inspiration from. There appeared to be a model sitting down on one of the cafeteria stools, posing as people flexed their wrists and created a different world on their individual canvas. 

It didn't stop there; the graphics department were also out admiring the building's foundations and architecture. He watched a group of girls' eyes widen as they learned about the building's history. It was inspiring to witness.

The cafe doors were already held open when he approached them. A poster was pinned to one of the glass windows, declaring that today was the Universities annual celebration day.

This explained why everyone was learning outside in the sun—Dan just thought that he'd entered an alternative universe.

Bookworm Corner was packed so he made no mistake in joining the queue straight away. People seemed really happy, joking and laughing with their friends as they tried to get their work done. Personally, he wouldn't want to study in this weather, it was really nice out.

The line got shorter and shorter until he was at the counter.

"Hello, how are you today? What can I get you?" the barista asked in an upbeat voice.

"I'm great thanks," he replied because it was true, for once. "Can I have a hot caramel cappuccino with extra caramel?"

"Of course!"

The barista rushed off to get the drink ready; he watched as she added lots of whipped cream and double the amount of caramel sauce. He could never get tired of it.

"Here you go," she announced handing over the drink. "Will there be anything else?"

"Can I get a blueberry muffin?" he requested with a note of hopefulness.

"I'm sorry, we just sold the last one to that guy over there and we won't have any ready for another twenty minutes," she said apologetically.

Dan looked over to see, much to his disbelief, that the guy who had taken the last muffin was the one who had done so last week. He recognised the galaxy backpack.

"That's alright," he said, handing over the money to pay for his drink.

Dan made his way over to the guy before he could notice, but when he did he quickly tired to escape from sight.

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" he called after him.

They were both outside before the guy finally stopped and turned around, facing him.

"What do you want now? If it's about me getting the last muffin again, then..." the guy groaned.

"I wanted to apologise," Dan said honestly. "I was really horrible the other day and you didn't deserve it. It's not your fault that you got the last muffin twice in a row."

He watched as the guy's shoulders relaxed. His face looked softer now, more forgiving. Dan introduced himself and apologised again, he still felt guilty about what had happened.

"It's okay, really. My name's Phil," he explained.

"Would you mind if I bought you a hot caramel cappuccino sometime?" Dan insisted. "I feel like I owe you one."

"With extra caramel sauce?" Phil added, raising his eyebrows.

"Definitely with extra caramel sauce," He laughed. "Come on, lets go laugh at the paintings."

Dan quickly realised that Phil was an art student himself, talking to everyone with ease as he made light-hearted jokes about their paintings. He sat down to start drawing and Dan watched him intently, within five minutes he had already sketched out the whole body and face. To him it looked perfect, but he wasn't an artist, he was a musician. They were both art forms in their own way, neither better nor worse than the other. 

The painting was only halfway complete when he remembered that he had class to go to. They exchanged phone numbers but Dan was sure that he had made a complete idiot out of himself. He was so embarrassed. 

It was only a few hours into his lecture when his phone started vibrating inside his pocket. He took it out discreetly and read the text he'd just been sent.

It was from Phil, though it didn't say much, only that he had finished the painting and wanted to show it to him.

He opened up the attached picture and all words about music and composers went in one ear and straight out the other. The colours were so bright and vibrant that if anyone asked where this was set, they would probably guess somewhere warm like Florida or a tropical island. The model looked mesmerising; their hair falling from her shoulders in neat little waves. He had also added in a little bird on the girls shoulder; it bright, colourful and obviously improvised. For a second he forgot all about breathing as through he had been submerged under water.

Instantly he texted back, exclaiming how much he loved the piece and that his words could never describe how brilliant it was.

Two minutes later, he received a text back from Phil asking if he would like to model sometime, because after all, Dan owed him a hot drink, and he owed him two blueberry muffins.


	4. My Wings Are Scarred and Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on the prompt: "Phil is a teenage guardian angel who sneaks out on a dangerous mission to save his brother. The only person who would be able to provide the magic he needs is a fallen angel going by the name of Ares."
> 
> // the time when dan and phil are two different kinds of angels.

He took off running and leaped into the night sky, waiting a few milliseconds before the marvellous white wings on his back stretched out and breathed in the cold, winter air. The pure white feathers carried him through the clouds as he soared high enough until the buildings and people below were nothing but a blur and a distant memory. 

What Phil was about to do would risk his life, and if he were to be caught, there would be even bigger consequences.

It was only a month ago when his little brother, Matthew, grew ill. The symptoms—migraines, sickness, aching bones and weakened wings—all began when he started his training.

All the kids had to go through this intense programme set up by the council before they could be assigned jobs inside the dome (where everyone with light magic stayed hidden from mortals), while also keeping up with their studies.

It was a hard and tough process, especially for kids, and Phil knew that from experience.

It turned out that Phil was one of the only younger guardians on the team, they were usually selected when they turned eighteen; but at siventeen, he had just made it under the wire. 

His job was to look after the people in the mortal world and protect them from dark forces such as warlocks, trolls, goblins, demons, and worst of all, fallen angels. It wasn't the easiest job, but it was certainly the most rewarding.

It filled his heart with love for the word and his veins with a calm swish of the ocean. Protecting just came natural to him, like it was inbeded beneath his skin.

He was only a teenager but he embraced his powers and responsibilities like any adult. Both of his parents had left to form the council in one of the other domes in a nearby district, leaving him to look after the whole city _and_ Matthew.

Although, Matthew wasn't his only brother. Martyn was somewhat of a legend in their realm, and certainly the favourite of their parents. It was customary that Phil be compared to his older brother whenever the chance came along. His golden wings were what made him special, sticking out of his back like two trophy handles. If an impure demon were to place even a finger upon them, they would disintegrate into a pile of ashes at his feet.

Fallen angels feared him, the light realm praised him. 

It was impossible trying to live up to the expectations that his brother had already set. If anything were to happen to Matthew, Phil was sure that his parents would banish him, or worse, clip his wings right there and then. They would probably make it a public affair.

His parents never cut him any slack. They expected him to be a guardian only, taking on their battles for them. Yet, he should be out there, enjoying the smell of freshly cut grass and the feeling of sunshine on his skin.

For once, the world was his to explore. It was unusual for the city to look so peaceful admist all the chaos. Phil never got the chance to go out during dark as he did all of his protecting through the day, while Martyn was training. That way they could both spend their nights together in their apartment inside the dome. It wasn't all that bad, but this meant that he never got to see the shimmering of the stars and the dancing of the moon. He never got to see the mortals struggle to fall asleep. He never got to see the worst of everything.

Recently he’d heard whispers from the fairies that Ares was located in one of the caves off the side of the loch, not to far from the dome. Ares was a fallen angel, and a magical one at that. For sixteen years he had abided by the council's rules and one day he just snapped.

Everyone had made up their own stories about what happened, little slithers of _'he was playing with dark magic'_ or _'he travelled to the underworld'_ here and there, so Phil didn't know what really happened. The only thing that was certain was that he was banished from the light realm forever, left to rot and decay in the dark.

What was also certain, was that if Ares had returned after a year and was inside a cave in the mortal world, he would most definitely have brought potions with him that would be able to cure his brother in an instant. You can never trust what the fairies say, but he was holding onto that slight flicker of hope so tight that it might crack between his freezing fingertips. 

When he was sure that he was out of range for any of the other guardians to catch him, he swooped back down closer to the water.

He felt gusts of wind mess up the black hairs on his head while his blue eyes tried to see through the darkness. It was a shame that he hadn't been given the ability to see in the dark, it would have really come in handy. He could see streaks of light all across the loch and stopped just far enough above it that if he were to reach out his hand, he would be able to touch it.

He kept on flying further and further until finally he made it to the rockey structure. It was black just like everything else but he made out just a faint shape of an oval, presumably an opening. He looked around first before entering, a pounding beating in his chest, before he landed on the rocks and walked carefully inside.

A million warning signs came all at once. Everything was telling his body to turn back, but he just fought the feeling. He had to remind himself that this was for his brother, it was the only chance Matthew had.

Just then, he seen a dim light up ahead. He kept on moving towards it until everything started to become clearer in his vision. Several fire torches lit the whole cave as they burned bright through the ever growing darkness. The whole place was bathed in an orange light that reminded him of a blazing fire. 

Phil quietly traveled further into the room to inspect his surroundings and noticed there were sheleves crafted from stone lining the cave walls. Upon them sat different colours of potions, green ones, yellow ones, and ones the colour of a darkened soul.

There was also lots of different herbs and spices, but it was hard to make out the difference as they lay together in a basket. Books were pilled all around the room, scattered and thrown across the floor like it had just been done recently. 

Suddenly he heard a noise coming from behind him. Where he lacked in eye sight, he made up for in hearing.

It was just then that he realised he was not alone.

A bed was placed to the left of the cave wall where no torches had been placed to light it. He could make out a faint shape of someone sleeping, and at that moment he knew it was Ares. He was sound asleep in the shadows.

A lump caught in Phils throat as the whole danger of this situation lay before him. He had to get the correct potion, and fast.

He started to fumble through the darkness, looking at each label carefully. He picked up multiple bottles labeled 'for my mother', 'for my father', 'for my brother', while the rest were just generic and stated exactly what they were. His hands began to shake as a bead of sweat rolled down his face. He was terrified.

"Looking for something?"

Phil nearly fell right into the shelf as the shadowy figure was now standing right beside him, clearly not asleep anymore.

"Ares, I-"

"Please," the boy spat out. "If you're going to try and steal from me at least stop using that dreadful name. My name is Dan, not Ares," he laughed out.

It was as though a spell had just washed over Phil and he couldn't move. He hadn't really planned out what would happen when confronted with Ares—or, Dan. He was breathing fast and loud now. The feeling in his stomach was one of unease. He put one hand behind his back to grab the handle of his sword.

"I never thought I would see the day when a guardian angel would try and steal from me," Dan admitted.

For a second, Phil let all thoughts leave his head as he looked up and down Dan's body. He was covered in scars (a mixture of old and new) and tattoos that were just hidden under the black of his ripped jeans. He was bare chested and it too looked like a bloody war. Definitely the most interesting thing about him were his wings, coming around the edge of his shoulders in a protective manor. They were the colour of left over ashes from a fire or coal that could be used to relight one, just like every fallen angels.

Dan just stood in watch as he clearly caught Phil looking at the wings. 

"What happened to you?" Phil managed to ask.

"Why aren't you terrified? Why aren't you Trembling with fear?" Dan questioned in reply whilst tempting a few steps forward.

Phil's feet stayed firmly planted in the ground. He let both hands drop to the front of his body.

"I asked you first."

Dan grew the most evil smirk that he had ever witnessed in his life before. Never had Phil been this close to darkness, not that he would ever have dared to.

"Very well," Dan began. "I was out on a mission one day, heading to save some mortals from this warlock when I noticed that he was producing flower petals beneath his hands and dropping them from the sky. It was unlike anything I'd seen before, they kept falling in a rainbow of colours and the smiles on the mortals faces as they looked unknowingly upwards was indescribable. I took my chances and flew on up beside him, but he wasn't scared of me. He just smiled, and I smiled back."

The look upon Dan's face was one of reminiscence. In that moment he wasn't the dark force that everyone constantly made him out to be. He was half human, half angel, just like the rest of them.

"We ultimately became friends and used to sneak out together to go fly over the loch. It was fun, just the two of us. I knew I was breaking so many rules but I didn't care," he paused, as though the words were scratching at the inside of his throat. "My brother caught me sneaking out once but he promised he wouldn't tell our parents, and for a while I actually believed him. I was supposed to meet up with Magnus in our usual spot but he wasn't there, my parents and the council got to him before I did."

"What happened to him?"

"What do you think?" Dan exploded, his face beginning to burn up in pure anger. "They tortured him, just because he was a warlock. He did not deserve the death he received, it was not his time to die, but they willingly placed that fate upon him. I will never forgive my brother for betraying me, or my parents for killing him."

The room began to get very cold fast. Phil had no idea what to say, he knew that his words could not make this better. It was nothing like the rumours he had heard, this one hurt like an arrow to the heart, like poison running through your veins.

"I don't know what to say," Phil replied honestly.

"Me either."

"You're nothing like everyone says," he offered.

"What does everyone say? That I'm the most evil fallen angel in all the dark realm?" Dan began. "Well, they're right. If you weren't so brave I would have killed you by now."

Phil took a sharp inhale of breath. He was starting to feel really dizzy and lightheaded. The waves were crashing inside of him and he was too far out to reach the shore.

"What type of potion were you actually looking for?" Dan asked while taking the first few steps between them, returning to look back at the shelf. 

"I was looking for a cure for my brother, he's dying."

"I have just the thing."

Dan began to look through the potions one by one until he came across a white liquid. There was no label upon it, but it shined bright like the moon and all of the stars combined. It looked like heaven in a bottle.

He held it towards Phil and he reached out his hands to take it from him, but Dan instantly retracted and held the potion close to his chest.

"This potion will cure any sickness, restore broken wings and enable you to fly high above the clouds again," he paused. "You can have the potion, only if you do something for me first."

"Please," Phil pleaded. "I'll do anything."

"You may have noticed the potions labeled for my mother, my father and my brother. They are poisons, which you may have already guessed. I would like you to give it to them from me," Dan explained.

"Are you out of your mind?" Phil shouted, his voice echoing inside the cave. "I can't do that."

"I'm sure your brother, Martyn, would take on the challenge. You have that same reckless nature and blue eyes."

"I'm nothing like my brother," Phil cried out, as though in serious pain. "I won't do it."

"Well then, I guess you can't have the cure," Dan finished with a deadly smirk.

He had to protect his bother, it just made sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you thought, and if anyone would be interesting in a part two!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please leave comments and kudos if you liked it <3


End file.
